PAGE 4A
BANKS COUNTY NEWS
WEDNESDAY, JANUARY 3, 2024
Opinion
Reflecting on 2023 and looking
ahead to the new year
Letter to the Editor
Appreciates coverage
of Lula event
The end of a year is always a time
of reflection and looking forward to a
new year.
In 2023, we celebrated two special
milestones. My nephew, Grayson, cel
ebrated his 16th birthday. I wanted to
plan something special that he would
remember. He loves country music, so
I got us tickets to see Sam Hunt in con
cert in Alpharetta.
My oldest nephew, Jake, graduated
from the University of Georgia, which
was another time of celebration for the
family.
Travel is one of my favorite things
to do and 2023 brought a very spe
cial vacation for me and two friends.
We went on a cruise to Hawaii and
enjoyed it so much. Other trips were
to Pigeon Forge, where I saw Dolly
Parton at the season opening for Dol
ly wood, and Asheville.
Music is very important to me and a
Christian concert featuring Toby Mac,
Zach Williams and
Mercy Me being
my favorite in
2023. What a great
night it was seeing
three of my favor
ite artists in one
concert! I went to
a few shows at the
Fox Theatre with
the Tina Tinner
musical being my
favorite.
As for work, in 2023,1 covered hun
dreds of meetings in Banks County
and saw elected officials who really
do care about making the county and
their towns a better place to live. It
was 38th year working for MainStreet
Newspapers, and I still love what I do.
I have wanted to be a journalist since I
was 10 years old and got a typewriter
for my birthday.
One of the highlights of the year for
me was being involved in a the sec
ond season of a boat ministry at Lake
Hartwell. It was wonderful to see the
people who came by boat and car for
this ministry. Plans are already in the
works for the third year. Services are
held at Tiger Cove on Sundays Memo
rial Day through Labor Day. Please at
tend if you are in the area on a Sunday.
See your Facebook page for updates
on the new season (Water’s Edge Min
istry at Lake Hartwell).
The last two months of the year, I
dealt with knee pain due to tom me
niscus. As year ends, I’m recovering
from the surgery and still dealing with
some pain.
As a new year gets underway, my
prayer for everyone is for a healthy
and happy new year. There will be
hard times but also good times.
Angela Gary is editor of the Banks
County News. She can be reached at
angela@mainstreetnews.com.
By the sun’s gentle light
The old woman sat in a
weathered, well-worn rock
er, her silver hair was gath
ered into a bun, held togeth
er with long, wide hair pins
while small, wired glasses
perched on her nose.
Her eyes were closed and
the gentleness of the fall sun
brought a slight light to her
face.
She wore a cotton dress
made from a flour sack and
an apron was tied around
her tiny waist.
She could not have
weighed more than 90
pounds and that would have
been only if she were wear
ing her flat, black shoes with
laces.
In the years that have
come and gone, it is a lovely
memory to recall, but one
special element of that old
gothic sight remains forever
in my heart: her bony arms
wrapped around the book
that declared Holy Bible.
She held it tightly and
had, most likely, been read
ing it when asleep she fell.
Daddy and I got out of the
car and, as usual, I slammed
the door too hard.
He threw me one of those
no-nonsense looks. “I told
you about closin’ that car
door so hard.”
“Yes sir.”
The clamor had awakened
the old woman.
She did not come to con
sciousness with a start.
Her lids fluttered, show
ing her light blue eyes.
“Howdy do, Miss McA
fee,” he tipped the brimmed
Fedora that he always wore
when dressed up.
“Why, hey there, Ralph.
What you doin’ up in these
parts? It’s a ways from
home for you.”
“Old man Benson ain’t
doin’ too well. Neither with
his body or his soul.”
Daddy studied a chick
en that was scratching the
bare dirt while I picked up a
hickory stick and wrote my
name in the dirt. I was nine.
“I thought some bedside
prayin’ might be in order.”
“Mine if I have a sit?” he
asked.
“Please. Does a soul good
to have a preacher come
a’callin’.”
Mrs. McAfee, stood,
placed the Bible on the
rocker. “Ralph, I’ll make us
up a cup of coffee. Cream
and sugar?”
“That’d be mighty fine.
Thank ya.”
I had taken off my laced-
trimmed socks and black
patent shoes.
I knew we were finished
visiting for the day so Dad
dy wouldn’t mind.
I sat on the top step of the
ragged porch, pushing my
socks into the toes of my
buckled shoes.
As she passed me, she
patted the top of my head
and said, “And, for you, lit-
tle’un” she winked, know
ing that’s what Daddy called
me. “I have some teacakes.
Just made ‘em.”
Teacakes were a delica
cy of the mountains made
from fresh butter and milk
from the cow, eggs from
the chicken who pecked
through the yard and flour
with sugar.
When she returned with
the coffee and cookies, the
two got the niceties out of
the way, “Sister Satterfield
doin’ right good?”
In the mountains in those
days, they often called each
other brother and sister fol
lowed by their surnames
because they believed they
were part of the body of
Christ, a family of brothers
and sisters.
“She’s ailin’ a bit with a
migraine but they come and
go.”
The real discussion be
gan. “Say you’re worried
about old Benson?” Mrs.
McAfee asked.
“Well, I ain’t seen moon-
shinin’, rooster fightin’ and
nearly killin’ a man with a
shovel get a soul to heaven
yet. Without redemption,
that is.”
Mrs. McAfee took a sip
of her coffee then studied
the shabbiness of her little
shack, falling apart gradu
ally from no money to keep
it up.
“I was just studyin’ on
that scripture a bit ago about
if you gain the world and
lose your soul, what does it
profit ya?”
This memory came up
because I realize the days
of my childhood when peo
ple used to sit on the porch
and study the Bible are long
past.
I don’t remember the last
time I saw it.
How sad that is.
Ronda Rich is the best
selling author of St. Simons
Island: A Stella Bankwell
Mystery’. Visit www.rond-
arich.com to sign up for her
free weekly newsletter.
Letters to the editor can be emailed to
angela@mainstreetnews.com.
Deadline: Noon Fridays
Mike Buffington
Scott Buffington
Angela Gary
The Banks County News
Horner, GA 30547
Founded 1968
The official legal organ of Banks County, G a.
Co-Publisher
Co-Publisher
Editor
BanksNewsT OD AY.com
(SCED 547160)
Published weekly by MainStreet Newspapers, Inc.,
P.O.Box908, Jetterson,Ga.30549
Yearly subscription rate: 845 Regular Seniors 840
Periodicals postage paid at
Homer, Ga. 30547 (547-160)
Postmaster: send address changes to:
MainStreet Newspapers, inc., PO Box 908,
Jetterson, Georgia 30549-0908
Dear Editor,
I would like to thank you sincerely for printing the ar
ticle about our Lula community dinner. It’s refreshing to
see not all newspapers are looking to put us down and only
look for the sensational stories. Again, thank you for caring
about our community.
Sincerely,
David Millingham
Lula
Pheasant hunting in
South Dakota
It has been several sea
sons since I have pheasant
hunted in South Dakota, but
I fully expect to return to the
“Mount Rushmore State.”
Have my calendar marked
for next fall.
What made me think of
making October plans at
this juncture on the calendar
is that I got an email in the
last fortnight from a long
time South Dakota friend,
Homer Harding.
Harding and his friend,
George Mickelson, intro
duced me to South Dakota
hospitality and pheasant
hunting.
I have never experienced
a greater combination of ex
periences.
In his note, Homer al
lowed his hunting days
are over. “I’m 98 now,” he
wrote.
I hunted with him for
years with him getting his
limit in his early years as a
nonagenarian.
He walked the South Da
kota grainfields as fluidly as
a teenager strolling down
the street.
When the day ended, he
was eager for a steak dinner,
a couple of Rob Roy’s, and
good conversation.
The way I met Homer
came about through a
friendship with a Coca-Cola
executive, Bill Schermer-
hom, who was friends with
the governor of South Da
kota, George Mickelson.
The governor had a great
affinity for golf and ar
ranged for tickets to the
Masters via his relationship
with Georgia governor, Zell
Miller.
I hosted Mickelson’s par
ty while they were in Au
gusta and a warm friendship
ensued with the governor
and his state treasurer who
was Homer Harding.
There were trips to Pierre,
the capital city, where the
governor and Homer ar
ranged pheasant hunts.
At the end of one trip, we
wound up having dinner
at the governor’s mansion
after which the governor’s
wife, hosted a small Geor
gia party at a new museum
a few blocks away.
While we were at the
museum, the governor and
Homer cleaned the pheas
ant we had killed which we
brought home with us.
I remember another trip
when we showed up at a lo
cal steak house for dinner.
There must have been 20
or more diners-to-be who
were awaiting seating.
The proprietor immedi
ately went into a scramble
to bring about VIP arrange
ments, but Mickelson would
not allow that to take place.
We went elsewhere.
When the governor at
tended the Masters, he
stayed at a budget mo
tel.
When I told him we could
get him an upgrade, he said.
“That is not a problem. We
only need a place to show
er and
change
clothes.”
I want
ed to
move to
South
Dakota
so I could
become
eligible to
vote for
him.
Made me wish all politi
cians were like that.
Tragically, Mickelson
was killed in a plane crash, a
heartbreaking circumstance
for all his friends.
After that, I kept return
ing to South Dakota to hunt
with Homer always going
by for a moment of silence
at the memorial to the late
governor.
Initially, it was hard to
hunt without regret since we
all knew that we had lost a
close friend with the gover
nor’s death, but as Homer
said, “He would want us to
carry on.”
Killing a cock pheasant in
South Dakota ranks with the
best of outdoor experiences.
The landscape is differ
ent, but its uniqueness is
captivating.
Prairies, the Missou
ri River which Lewis and
Clark (and Sacagawea), tra
versed, the “Badlands,” and
Mount Rushmore—all sec
ondary to walking the fields
in pursuit of bringing down
a pheasant for supper.
You walk the fields,
knowing that ahead of you
is a beautiful bird which is
cagey and extraordinarily
alert.
Pheasant are so cunning
that you can walk past them
as they hunker down into the
com and grain stalks, poised
to blast up and away.
The cock pheasant is the
most beautiful of all of the
birds.
I have several mounts
on the wall of my den,
each connected with the
heart-warming memory of
a morning or afternoon hunt
in the most uplifting of out
door settings.
South Dakota was the
40th state admitted to the
union which came about on
Nov. 1, 1889.
Not sure what a survey
would reveal, but I think
most non-residents are most
aware of Mount Rushmore
and pheasant hunting when
asked about this state named
for the Sioux native Ameri
cans.
The people of the state are
hearty and generous.
They enjoy the outdoors
and are proud to welcome
visitors every year to hunt
their farms and ranches
amid the most welcoming
of hospitality.
I miss those trips to South
Dakota, and I still miss my
friend the late governor.
Lor an Smith is a UGA
commentator and columnist
for Mainstreet Newspa
pers.
